


Sugar and Spice

by sinnerforhire



Series: 365 Days of J2 Fanfic [16]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Chefs, Christmas Fluff, Fade to Black, M/M, Snacks & Snack Food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 09:21:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9065668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinnerforhire/pseuds/sinnerforhire
Summary: Jensen is a Michelin-starred chef. Jared is a junk food addict. Their marriage is an odd but beautiful thing.





	

Whoever first said “opposites attract” never mentioned just how goddamn difficult the resulting marriage would be. Jensen loves Jared with all his heart and couldn’t live without him, but sometimes Jared’s disgusting habits and childish preferences drive Jensen absolutely nuts. 

It’s Christmas Eve, and there’s a gently crackling fire in the fireplace that casts coal-gray shadows over the toes of red hand-knit stockings trimmed with obnoxious gold eyelash yarn that sheds like a motherfucker right into the flames. Delicate pine boughs with white lights and gold ribbons line the mantel, on top of which sit a clay gingerbread house that lists decidedly to the left that Jared made in third grade, a melting snowman that holds a tea candle in its puddle, a ceramic Santa Claus warming his butt cheeks in front of an open wood stove, and 4 plastic Peanuts figurines with blinking lights that play incredibly loud Christmas carols at random intervals. It’s hideous, but Jared refuses to celebrate Christmas without every piece of his kitsch collection. 

The tree in the corner is a 6-foot artificial blue spruce that they divide in half—Jensen’s top half sports white lights; glistening red, green, and gold baubles; a gold and white pearl beaded garland; and a few ceramic angels and stars. Jared’s bottom half sports colored lights that blink in random seizure-inducing patterns and all sorts of plastic, wooden, ceramic, and clay monstrosities, some of which are the size of Jared’s hand, and considering that Jared is six-foot-five, that’s pretty goddamn big. The angel on top of the tree looks like some kind of demented cross between Barbie and Scarlett O’Hara, and once again, it’s from Jared’s childhood. Jensen’s been to Jared’s parents’ house, and it wasn’t nearly as trailer-trashy as he had expected based on Jared’s taste in Christmas decorations.

Jensen’s eating leftovers he brought from the restaurant—scallops with curried parsnip purée, parsnip crisps, and pomegranate. He’s also got a glass of William Fevre Chablis Domaine 2014. Jared’s snacking on his favorite candy, sour rainbow gummy belts, and drinking from a liter bottle of Mountain Dew.

So yeah, Jensen and Jared are opposites in basically every way but sexual orientation, and sometimes Jensen’s not even sure about that, because Jared dated women exclusively before he met Jensen.

Jensen has tried for years to get Jared to improve his palate. He’s fed him everything from foie gras to fennel al forno, and yet Jared insists on ordering chicken-fried steak and French fries. He brought home a $40 Kobe beef burger topped with gruyère and truffle aioli, and Jared ate half of it, hid the rest, and snuck out to Burger King for a double Whopper. Jensen made cranberry-blood orange gelée for Thanksgiving, only for Jared to eat jellied cranberry sauce straight out of the can with a spoon. He also put canned whipped cream on the pumpkin mousse even though Jensen whipped his own with cinnamon, nutmeg, and fresh vanilla bean. 

They’ve been married for four years, and Jensen has come to realize that he’s never going to change Jared. He begrudgingly lets Jensen make Cornish game hen for Christmas, but then Jensen has to let him order Chinese takeout for New Year’s, even though Jensen has explained multiple times that he could make much tastier and healthier sesame chicken and fried rice at home. 

The one thing Jared does like is pasta. Jensen can put anything from pink vodka sauce to artisanal pesto to sherried mushrooms and cream on noodles and Jared will inhale two full plates of it. He even prefers Jensen’s handmade pasta to the dried stuff, which Jensen considers a minor miracle. Jensen only makes lasagna from scratch once a year because when he does, Jared barely lets him get up from the table before he drops his pants. Jensen has more than once promised Jared lasagna in exchange for doing his most hated chores, and Jared has never turned it down, even the time that Jensen begged him to clean the bathroom after he’d gotten some bad oysters at work and spent the better part of a week puking. Jared might actually love Jensen’s lasagna more than he loves Jensen’s dick, but it’s a close race.

Jared stands up. “I’m gonna make some popcorn. You want any?”

“Microwave popcorn?” 

Jared nods. “Unless you want to get out the air popper, but you looked comfy, so I wasn’t gonna ask.”

Jensen hands Jared his empty wineglass. “Just bring me some more wine, please?”

“You got it.” Jared smiles at him and heads to the kitchen.

When he comes back, he’s got the big wooden salad bowl full of the chemically-dubious Styrofoam they pass off as microwave popcorn and Jensen’s refilled wineglass, plus an unopened package of Christmas Oreos precariously balanced on his forearm. Jensen takes it before it falls so Jared can set Jensen’s wineglass on the table.

“Thanks for that,” says Jared when Jensen hands over the cookies. 

Jensen lifts up the ultrasoft throw and allows Jared to climb underneath it. Jared presses against Jensen’s side and Jensen slides a hand around his shoulders. He picks up the stereo remote and powers it on. It’s Jensen’s week to pick the music, so when he presses play, contemporary jazz Christmas music comes on. Jared doesn’t hate jazz, but he doesn’t like it either, and just tolerates it because Jensen won’t let him play his Bob Rivers CDs unless he does.

“What are you thinking about?” says Jared.

Jensen smiles softly. “How different we are.”

“We’re alike in the ways that count,” replies Jared. “I mean, yeah, we like different _stuff_ , but when it comes to love, we’re definitely on the same page.”

Jensen’s smile grows wider. “I do love you, you giant overgrown child.”

Jared chuckles softly. “I love you too, you uptight judgmental snob.”

Jensen tips Jared’s chin to the side so he can plant a soft, sentimental kiss on Jared’s salt- and sugar-dusted lips. Jared grins and kisses Jensen back, slow and languid. 

Jared breaks the kiss and licks his lips. “You taste like wine.” He leans over Jensen and sips from Jensen’s wineglass, then presses his lips to Jensen’s. “Mmmm, ‘s good.”

“You’re the best Christmas present I could ever ask for,” murmurs Jensen, taking the glass from Jared’s fingers and sipping from it himself. He kisses Jared once more, savoring the feel of Jared’s soft, supple lips on his.

Jared grins and kisses the tip of Jensen’s nose. “We better get to bed before Santa decides to skip this place.”

“Only if I can bring the wine,” replies Jensen.

Jared nods, grinning. “Grab a glass for me, wouldja?”

“Sure.” Jensen stands up. “See you in a minute.”

Jensen collects the half-full bottle of wine and an extra glass for Jared. When he gets to their bedroom, he finds the pink tabletop Christmas tree on the desk lit up, glittery pink and purple baubles reflecting the light, and the cookie-scented candle blazing, filling the room with a buttery vanilla scent. 

Jared is lying on the bed, fully naked except for a Santa hat, and Jensen has to laugh at how incredibly _Jared_ it is.

“Have you been naughty or nice?” asks Jared, smirking.

Jensen sets the wine on the nightstand and pours a glass for Jared. “There’s still time to get on the naughty list, right?”

Jared glances at the alarm clock. “Forty-six minutes, to be exact.”

“Then we better get moving.” Jensen slips his t-shirt over his head.

Jared grins. “My thoughts exactly.”


End file.
